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We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, 
For auld lang syne. 



Collection of '■'■Masterpieces'''' 
( ■ 

ROBERT ''BURNS 

II 

Auld Lano^ Syne 

And Other Songs 

With nimieroiis original 
illustrations by 

C. MOORE SMITH 




NEW YORK 

Fkedeirick a. Stokes Company 

publishers 



OCT ?i.0in97 




m COrms HtCEIVED 



BiilD Xaiui 5v}nc 



CONTENTS. 



AULD LANG Syne, 

A RED, RED ROSE, . 
THE BANKS O' DOON, 
CHARMING MONTH oF MaV, 
. HIGHLAND MARV, 
THE HIGHLAND LADDIE, 
DAINTY DAVIE, . 

Coming through the Rye, 
there was a lass, . , • 
Banks of Cree, 
The Ploughman, 
John Anderson My Jo, 
AULD ROB morris, . 

O WHA is she that LO'ES M 
ON THE SEAS AND FAR AWAY 

PHiLLis THE Fair, 

MY AIN KIND DEARIE O, . 

Galea Wa'ier, 
The Birks of aberfeldy, 
Blithe was She, . 
the Banks of Nith, 
Rattlin', Roarin' Willie 
Song 



E, 



'AGE 
Q 

12 
14 

16 

iS 



29 

33 

36 

38 

41 

42 

46 
48 
52 
54 
56 
58 
61 
65 
67 
69 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

John Barleycorn 74 

There'll Never be Peace till 

Jamie Comes Hame, ... 84 

There was a Lad, ... 87 

Mary Morison, .... 89 

BONIE Peg, g2 

Polly Stewart, .... 95 

Hey, the Dusty Miller, . 97 
Jamie, Come Try Me, . . .101 

There was a Lass, ... 103 
The Laddies by the Banks o' 

NiTH, 106 

I See a Form, I See a Face, . 108 

Full Well Thou Know'st, . no 

For the Sake of Somebody, 112 
O Were My Love Yon Lilac 

Fair, 114 

On Cessnock Banks, ... 116 
She Says She Loves Me Best 

OF a' 124 




.. ^ 



We twa hae paidl't i' the burn. 



AULD LANG SYNE. 



Should auld acquaintance be for- 
got. 
And never brought to min'.? 
Should auld acquaintance be for- 
got, 
And days o' lang syne ? 



AULD LANG SYNE 



CHORUS. 

For auld lang- syne, my dear, 

For aulcl lang syne, 
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, 

For auld lang syne. 

We twa liae run about the braes. 

And pu'd the gowans fine. 
But we've wander'd mony a weary 
foot 
Sin auld lang syne. 
For aukl, etc. 

We twa hae paidkt i' the burn, 

Froni mornin' sun till dine ; 
But seas between us braid hae 
roar'd 
Sin auld lang syne. 
For auld, etc. 



AULD LANG SYNE. 



And here's a hand, my trusty here, 

And gie's a liand o' thine; 
And we'll tak a right guid willie- 
waught. 
For auld lang syne. 
For auld, etc. 

And surely ye'll be your pint- 
stowp, 
And surely Fll be mine ; 
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness 
)et 
For auld lang syne. 
For auld, etc. 




O, my hive's like a red, 
red rose. 



A RED, RED ROSE. 

1 UNE— " WISHAW'S FAVOURITE." 

O, MY luve's like a red, red rose, 
That's newlv sprung in June: 

O, my luve's like the melodie 
That's sweetly play'd in tune. 

As fair art thou, my honie l.iss, 

So (leej) in luve am I : 
And I will luve thee still, my dear, 

Till a' the seas gang dry. 



A RED, RED ROSE. 



Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear. 
And the rocks melt \vi' the sun : 

I will luve tiiee still, my dear, 
While the sands o' life shall run. 

And fare thee weel, my only luve, 
And fare thee weel awhile! 

And I will come again, my luve, 
Tlio' it were ten thousand mile. 



THE BANKS O" DOOX. 

TUXE — " THE CALEDOXIAX HUNT'S 
DELIGHT.'" 

"^'e banks and braes o" bonit 
Doon, 
How can ye bloom sae fresh and 

fail- : 

How can ye cliant, ye little birds, 

And I sae weary fu" o" care I 
Thou'lt break niy heart, thou war- 
bling bird. 
That wantons thro' the flower- 
ing thorn : 
Thou minds me o' departed joys, 
Departed — never to return. 



AXKS O' DOON, 



Thou'lt break my heart, thou bonie 
bird. 

That sings beside thy mate, 
Foi- sae I sat, and sae I sang. 

And wist na o' my fate. 
Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon, 

To see the rose and woodbine 
twine ; 
And ilka bird sang o' its luve. 

And fondly sae cHd I o' mine. 

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, 

Fli' sweet upon its thorny tree; 
And my fause luver stole my rose, 

But ah ! he left the thorn wi' 
me. 
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd arose 

Upon a morn in June ; 
And sae I flourish'd on the morn. 

And sae was pu'd on noon. 



CHARAIING MONTH OF 
MAY. 

TUNE-" DAINTY DAVII-:." 

Ir was tlie channing month of 

May. 
When all the tlowers were fresl: 

and gay. 
One nioi'ninLi". by the break of day. 
The youthful, charnhni;" Chloe ; 
Vvo\u peaceful slumber she arose, 
(Hit on her mantle and her hose, 
And o"er the ilowery mead she 
o-oes. 
The youthful, charmins; Chloe. 



CHARMING MONTH OF MAY. 
CHORUS. 

Lovely was slie by the dawn, 
Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe. 

Tripping o'er the pearly lawn, 
The youthful, charming- Chloe. 

The feather'd people you might 

see 
Perch'd all around on every tree, 
In notes of sweetest melody 

They hail the charming Ciiloe ; 
Till, painting gay the eastern skies. 
The glorious sun began to rise, 
Out-rival'd by the radiant eyes 

Of youthful, charming Chloe. 
Lovely was she, etc. 



HIGHLAND MARY. 

TUNE—" KATHARINE OGIE." 

Ye banks, and braes, and streams 
around 
The castle o' Montgomery, 
Green be your woods, and fair your 
flowers, 
Your wateis never drumlie ! 
There simmer first unfauld lier 
robes, 
And there the langest tari-y ; 
For there I took tlie last fareweel 
O' my sweet Highland Maiy. 

How sweetly bloom'd the gay green 
birk, 
How rich the hawthorn's blossom, 



HIGHLAND MARY 




As underneath their 
fragrant shade, 
I clasp'd her to my 
bosom ! 
The golden hours, on 
angel wings, 
Flew o'er me and 
my dearie ; 
For dear to me, as light 
and life, 
Was my sweet High- 
land Mary. 



.-.k 



Naw green's the sod. and cauld's the clay, 
That wraps my Highland Mary. 



HIGHLAND MAR V. 



\Vi" monie a vow, aiul lock'd em- 
brace, 

Our parting- was fu' tender ; 
And, pledging- aft to meet again. 

We tore oursels asunder : 
But oh I fell death's untimely frost. 

That nipt my flower sae early ! 
Now green's the sod, and cauld's 
the clay. 

That wraps my Highland Mary. 

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips. 

I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly I 
And closed for aye the sparkling 
glance 

That dwelt on me sae kindly I 
And mould'ring now in silent dust. 

That heart that lo'ed me dearly I 
But still within my bosom's core 

Shall live mv Hii:^ bland Marv. 



THE HIGHLAND LADDIE. 

TUNE— "IF THOU'LT PLAY ME FAIR 
PLAY." 

The boniest lad that e'er I saw, 

Bonie laddie, Highland laddie, 
Wore a plaid and was fu' braw, 

Bonie Highland laddie. 
On his head a bonnet blue, 

Bonie laddie, Highland laddie, 
His royal heart was firm and true, 

Bonie Highland laddie. 

Trumpets sound and cannons roar, 
Bonie lassie, Lawland lassie. 

And a' the hills wi* echoes roar, 
Bonie Lawland lassie. 



THE HIGHLAND LADDIE. 

Glory, Honour, now invite, 
Bonie lassie, Lawland lassie, 

For Freedom and my King- to 
tight, 
Bonie Lawland lassie. 



The sun a backward course shall 
take, 
Bonie laddie, Highlnnd laddie. 
Ere aught thy man!}' courage 
shake ; 
Bonie Highland laddie. 
Go, for yoursel procure renown, 

Bonie laddie, Highland laddie, 
And for your lawful King his 
crown. 
Bonie Highland laddie ! 




And for your lawful King his crown, 
Bonie Highland laddie ! 



DAINTY DAVIE. 

Now rosy May comes in wi' 

flowers, 
To deck her gay, green spreading 

bowers ; 
And now comes in my liappy 

hours, 
To wander wi' my Davie. 

CHORUS. 

Meet me on the warlock knowe, 
Dainty Davie, dainty Davie, 

There I'll spend the day wi' you, 
My ain dear dainty Davie. 



DAINTY DAVIE. 



The crystal waters round us fa', 
The merry birds are lovers a', 
The scented breezes round us 
blaw, 
A wandering wi' my Davie. 

Meet me, etc. 

Wlien purple morning- starts the 

hare, 
To steal upon her early fare, 
Then through the dews I will re- 
pair. 
To meet my faithfu' Davie. 

Meet me, etc. 

When day, expiring in the west. 
The curtain draws o' Nature's rest, 
I flee to his arms I lo'e best, 
And that's my ain dear Davie. 

Meet me, etc. 



26 




The scented breezes round us blaw, 
A wandering vvi' my Davie. 



COMING THROUGH THE 
RYE. 

TUNE— "COMING THROUGH THE RYE." 

Coming through the rye, poor body, 

Coming- through the rye, 
She draiglet a' her petticoatie, 

Coming through the rye. 
Jenny's a' wat, poor body, 

Jenny's seldom dry ; 
She draiglet a' her petticoatie, 

Coming through the rye. 

Gin a body meet a body — 
Coming through the rye ; 

Gin a body kiss a body — 
Need a body cry ? 



COMING THROUGH THE RYE. 

Gin a body meet a body 

Coming through the glen, 
Gin a body kiss a body — 

Need the world ken ? 
Jenny's a' wat, poor body ; 

Jenny's seldom dry ; 
She draiglet a' her petticoatie. 

Coniing through the rve. 



30 







*.y 



P 



h 



Gin a body kiss a body- 
Need the world ken ? 



THERE WAS A LASS. 

TUNE— "BONIE JEAN." 

There was a lass, and she was 
fair, 
At kirk and market to be seen, 
When a' the fairest maids were 
met. 
The fairest maid was bonie 
Jean. 

And aye she wrorght her mam- 
mie's wark, 
And aye she sang sae merrily : 
The blithest bird upon the bush 
Had ne'er a lighter heart than 
she. 

33 



THERE WAS A LASS. 

But hawks will rob the tender joys 
That bless the little lintwhite s 
nest ; 
And frost will blight the fairest 
flowers, 
And love will break the soundest 
rest. 

Young Robie was the brawest lad, 
The flower and pride of a' the 
glen ; 

And he had owsen, sheep and kye, 
And wanton naigies nine or ten. 

He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryste, 
He danc'd wi' Jeanie on the 
down ; 
And lang ere witless Jeanie wist, 
Her heart was tint, her peace 
was stown. 

34 



THERE WAS A L. A S S. 

As in the bosom o' the stream 
The moon-beam dwells at dewy 
e'en ; 
So trembling, pure, was tender 
love, 
Within the bi'east o' boniejean. 

And now she works her mammie's 
wark, 
And aye she sighs wi' care and 
pain ; 
Yet wistna what her ail might be, 
Or what wad mak her weel 
again. 

But didna Jeanie's heart loup light, 
And didna joy blink in her ee, 

As Robie tauld a tale o' love, 
Ae e'enin on the lily lea? 



35 



BANKS OF CREE. 

TUNE— -THE FLC\VERS OF EDIX- 
BLRGH." 

Here is the glen, and here the 
bower, 
All underneath the birchen 
shade ; 
The village-bell has toU'd the hour. 
O what can stay my lovely 
maid ? 

*Tis not Maria's whispering call ; 
Tis but the balmy breathing 
gale. 
Mixt with some warbler's dying 
fall. 
The dewv star of eve to hail. 



BANKS OF CREE, 



It is Maria's voice I hear '. 

So calls the woodlark in the 
grove 
His little faithful mate to cheer, 
At once 'tis music — and 'tis 
love. 

And art thou come ? and art thou 
true ? 
O welcome, dear, to love and 
nie I 
And let us all our vows renew. 
Along the flow'ry banks of Cree. 



^7 



THE PLOUGHMAN. 

TUNE— "UP \VI' THE PLOUGHMAN." 

The ploughman he's a bonie lad, 
His mind is ever true, jo, 

Kis garters knit below his knee, 
His bonnet it is blue, jo. 

CHORUS. 

Then up wi't a', my ploughman 
lad, 
And hey, my merry plough- 
man ; 
Of a' the trades that I do ken. 
Commend me to the plough- 
man. 

38 



THE PLOUGHMAN. 




My ploughman he 

comes hame at 

e'en, 
He's aften wat 

and weary; 
Cast off tlie wat, 

put on tlie dry, 
And gae to bed, 

my Dearie ! 

Up wi't a', etc. 



will wash my 

ploughman's 

hose, 
And I will dress 

his o'erlay; 
will mak my 

ploughman's 

bed, 
And cheer him 

late and early. 

Up wi't a', etc. 



THE PLOUGHMAN, 



I hae been east, I hae been west, 

I hae been at Saint Johnston, 
The boniest siglit that e'er I saw 
Was the ploughman laddie 
dancin'. 

Up wi't a', etc. 

Snaw-white stockins on his legs, 
And siller buckles glancin' ; 

A gude blue bannet on his head, 
And O, but he was handsome i 
Up wi't a', etc. 

Commend me to the barn yard. 
And the coi'n-mou, man ; 

I never gat my coggie fou 

Till I met wi' the ploughman. 
Up wi't a', etc. 



JOHN ANDERSON MY JO. 

John Anderson my jo, John, 

When we were first acquent. 
Your locks were like the raven. 

Your bonie brow was brent : 
But now your brow is beld, John, 

Your locks are like the snaw; 
But blessings on your frosty pow. 

John Anderson my jo. 

John Anderson my jo, John, 

We clamb the hill thegither; 
And monie a canty day, John, 

We've had wi' ane anither : 
Now we maun totter down. John 

But hand in hand we'll go. 
And sleep thegither at the foot, 

John Anderson my jo. 



AULD ROB AIORRIS. 

There's aulcl Rob Morris that 

wons in yon glen, 
He's the king o' gude fellows and 

wale of auld men ; 
He has gowd in his coffers, he has 

owsen and kine. 
And ae bonie lassie, his darling 

and mine. 

She's fresh as the morning, tiie 

fairest in May ; 
She's sweet as the ev'ning amang 

the new hay ; 
As blythe and as artless as the 

lamb on the lea, 
And dear to my heart as the light 

to my ee. 




There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, 



AULD ROB MORRIS. 

But oh ! she's an heiress, aukl 

Robin's a laird, 
And niy daddie has nought but a 

cot-house and yard ; 
A wooer hke me niauniia hope to 

come speed, 
The wounds I must hide that, will 

soon be my dead. 

The day comes to me, but delight 
brings me nane ; 

The night comes to me, but my 
rest it is gane : 

I wander my lane, like a night- 
troubled ghaist. 

And I sigh as my heart it wad 
burst in my breast. 



O WHA IS SHE THAT LO'ES 
ME? 



O WHA is she that lo'es me, 
And has my heart a-keepiiig ? 

O sweet is she that lo'es me, 
As clews o' simmer weeping, 
In tears the rose-buds steeping. 

CHORUS. 

O that's the lassie o' my heart. 
My lassie ever dearer ; 

O that's the queen o' woman- 
kind, 
And ne'er a ane to peer her. 

46 



O WHA IS SHE THAT LO'ES ME? 

If thou shall meet a lassie, 

In grace and beauty charming, 

That e'en thy chosen lassie, 

Erewhile thy breast sae waim- 

Had ne'er sic powers alarming ; 
O that's, etc. 

If thou hadst heard her talking. 
And thy attentions plighted, 

That ilka body talking, 

But her by thee is slighted, 
And thou art all delighted ; 
O that's, etc. 

If thou hast met this fair one ; 
When frne her thou hast parted 

If every other fair one. 

But her, thou hast deserted. 
And thou art broken-hearted ; 
O that's, etc. 

47 



^ ■ ■ ^?i^- 



Nightly dreams and thoughts by day 
Are with him that's far away. 



ON THE SEAS AND FAR 
AWAY. 

TUXE — " O'ER THE HILLS AND FAR 
A WAV." 

How can my poor heart be glad. 
When absent from my Sailor lad ? 
How can I tlie thought forego, 
He's on the seas to meet the foe ? 



ON THE SEA?. ii,TC. 

Let me wander, let me rove, 
Still my heart is with my love; 
Nightly dreams and thoughts by 

day 
Are with him that's far away. 

CHORUS. 

On the seas and far away, 
On stormy seas and far away : 
Nightly dreams and thoughts by 

day 
Are aye with him that's far 

away. 

When in summer's noon I faint, 
As weary flocks around me pant, 
Haply in this scorching sun 
My Sailor's thund'ring at his gun : 
Bullets, spare my only joy ! 
Bullets, spare my darling boy I 



ON THE SEAS, ETC. 



Fate, do with nie what you may, 
Spare but hiui that's far away! 
On the seas, etc. 

At the starless midnight hour. 
When winter rules with boundless 

power ; 
As the storms the forest tear, 
And thunders rend the howling 

air, 
Listening to the doubling roar 
Surging on the rocky shore. 
All I can — I weep and pray. 
For his weal that's far away. 
On the seas, etc. 

Peace, thy olive wand extend. 
And bid wild war his ravage end, 
Man with brother man to meet. 
And as a brother kindly greet : 



ON THE SEAS, ETC. 



Then may heaven with prosp'ious 

gales 
Fill my Sailor's welcome sails, 
To my arms their charge convey, 
My clear lad that's far away. 
On the seas, etc. 



PHILLIS THE FAIR. 

TUNE— " ROBIN ADAIR." 

While larks with little wing 

Fann'd the pure air, 
Tasting the breathing spring. 

Forth 1 did fare : 
Gay the sun's golden eye 
Peep'd o'er the mountains high 
Such thy morn ! did I cry, 

Phillis the fair. 

In each bird's careless song 

Glad did I share ; 
While yon wild flowers among. 

Chance led me there : 



PHILLIS THE FAIR. 

Sweet to the opening clay, 
Rosebuds bent the dewy si^ray 
Such thy bloom ! did I say, 
Phillis the fair. 

Down in a shady walk, 

Doves cooing were, 
I mark'd the cruel hawk 

Caught in a snare : 
So kind may Fortune be, 
Such make his destiny, 
He who would injure thee, 

Phillis the fair. 



MY AIN KIND DEARIE O. 

When o'er the hill the eastern star 

Tells bughtin-time is near, my jo; 
And owsen frae the furrow'd field 

Return sae dowf and wearie O ; 
Down by the burn, where scented 
birks 

Wi' dew are hanging clear, my jo, 
I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, 

My ain kind dearie O. 

In mirkest glen, at midnight hour, 
I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie O 

If thro' that glen I gnec\ to thee, 
My ain kind dearie O. 



MY AIN KIND DEARIE O, 

Altho' the night were ne'er sae wild, 
And I were ne'er sae wearie O, 

I'd meet thee on the lea-rig. 
My ain kind dearie O. 

The hunter lo'es the morning sun, 

To rouse the mountain deer, my 
jo; 
At noon the fisher seeks the glen. 

Along the burn to steer, my jo ; 
Gie me the hour o' gloamin' grey, 

It maks my heart sae cheery O, 
To meet thee on the lea-rig. 

My ain kind dearie O. 



GALLA WATER. 

There's braw braw lads on Yar- 
row braes, 
That wander thro' the blooming 
heather ; 
But Yarrow braes nor Ettrick 
shaws. 
Can match the lads o' Galla 
Water. 

But there is ane, a secret ane, 
Aboon them a' I lo'e him better ; 

And I'll be his, and he'll be mine, 
The bonie lad o' Galla Water. 

Altho' his daddie was nae laird. 
And tho' I hae nae meikle 
tocher; 



s& 



GALLA WATER. 

Yet rich in kindest, truest love, 
We'll tent our flocks by Galla 
Water. 

It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was 
wealth, 
That coft contentment, peace 
or pleasure ; 
The bands and bliss o' mutual 
love, 
O that's the chiefest warld's 
treasure ! 



THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY. 

CHORUS. 

Bonie lassie, will ye go, will 

ye go, will ye go, 
Bonie lassie, will ye go to the 

Birks of Aberfeldy ? 

Now simmer blinks on flowery 

braes. 
And o'er the crystal streamlet 

plays. 
Come let us spend the lightsome 
days 
In the Birks of Aberfeldy. 
Bonie lassie, etc. 

58 



THE BIRKS OF ABERFKLDY. 

While o'er tlieir heads the hazels 

hing-, 
The Httle birdies bhthly sing, 
Or lightly flit on wanton wing 
In the Birks of Aberfeldy. 
Bonie lassie, etc. 

The braes ascend Hke lofty wa's. 
The foaming stream deep roaring 

fa's, 
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading 
shaws, 
The Birks of Aberfeldy. 
Bonie lassie, etc. 

The hoary chffs are crown'd wi' 

flowers, 
White o'er the Hnns the burnie 

pours. 



THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY. 

And rising, weets \vi' misty showers 
The Bilks of Ai3eifeldy. 
Bonie lassie, etc. 

Let Fortune's gifts at random tlee, 
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae 

me, 
Supremely blest wi' love and thee, 
In the Birks of Aberfeldy. 
Bonie lassie, etc. 



BLITHE WAS SHE. 

TUNE—" ANDRO AND HIS CUTTIE 
GUN." 

CHORUS. 

Blithe, blithe and merry was she, 
Blithe was she but and ben : 

Blithe by the banks of Ern, 
But blither in Glenturit glen. 

By Ochtertyre grows the aik. 
On Yarrow banks, the birken 
shaw ; 
But Phem:e was a bonnier lass 
Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw. 
Blithe, etc. 



LITHE WAS SHE. 



Her looks were like a flower in May, 
Her smile was like a sinniier 
morn ; 
She tripped by the banks of Ern 
As light's a bird upon a thorn. 
Blithe, etc. 

Her bonie face it was as meek 

As onie lamb's upon a lee ; 
The evening sun was ne'er sae 
sweet 
As was the blink o' Phemie's ee. 
Blithe, etc. 

The Highland hills I've wander'd 
wide. 
And o'er the Lowlands I hae 
been ; 
But Phemie was the blithest lass 
That ever trod the dewy green. 
Blithe, etc. 



62 




But Phemie was the blithest lass 
That ever trod the dewy green. 



THE BANKS OF NITH. 

TUNE— " ROBIE DONNA GORACH." 

The Thames flows proudly to the 
sea, 
Where royal cities stately stand ; 
But sweeter flows the Nilh to me, 
Where Cummins ance had high 
command : 
When shall I see that honour'd 
land, 
That winding stream I love so 
dear ! 
Must wayward fortune's adverse 
hand 
For ever, ever keep me here? 



THE BANKS OF NITH. 

How lovely, Niih, thy fiuitful 
vales, 
Where spreading" hawthorns 
gaily bloom ; 
How sweetly wind thy sloping- 
dales, 
Where lambkins wanton thro' 
the broom ! 
Tho' wandering", now, must be 
my doom, 
Far from thy bonie banks and 
braes, 
May there my latest houis con- 
sume, 
Amang the friends of early 
days ! 



RATTLIN', ROARIN' WILLIE. 

TUNE— "RATTLIN', ROARIN' WILLIE." 

O RATTLIN', roarin' Willie, 

O, he iield to the fair, 
An' for to sell his fiddle, 

An' buy some other ware ; 
But parting wi' his fiddle, 

The saut tear blin't his ee ; 
And rattliii', roarin' Willie. 

Ye're welcome hanie to me ! 

O Willie, come sell your fiddle, 
O sell your fiddle sae fine ; 

O Willie, come sell your fiddle, 
And buy a pint o' wine ! 

67 



RATTLIN', ROARIN' WILLIE. 

If I should sell my fiddle. 

The warl' would think I was 
mad ; 
For mony a rantin' day 

My fiddle and I hae had. 

As I cam by Crochallan, 

I cannily keekit ben — 
Rattlin', roarin' Willie 

Was sitting- at yon board en'. 
Sitting at yon board en', 

And amang guid companie; 
Rattlin', roarin' Willie, 

Ye're welcome hame to me ! 



68 



SONG. 

TUNE— "MAGGY LAUDER." 

When first I saw fair Jeanie's 
face, 

I coulclna tell what ailed me, 
My heart went fluttei-ing- pit-a-pat, 

ivjy een they almost failed me. 
She's aye sae neat, sae trim, sae 
tight. 

All grace does round her hover, 
Ae look deprived me o' my heart. 

And I became a lover. 

She's aye, aye sae blithe, sae gay. 
She's aye sae blithe and 
cheerie ; 

69 



Slie's aye sae bonie, blithe, and 
gay, 
O gin I were her dearie ! 

Had I Dundas's whole estate, 
Or Hopetoun's wealth to shine 
in ; 
Did warlike laurels crown my 
brow, 
Or humbler bays entwining — 
I'd lay them a' at Jeanie's feet, 

Could I but hope to move her. 
And prouder than a belted knight, 
I'd i)e my Jeanie's lover. 

She's aye, aye sae blithe, etc. 

But sair I fear some happier swain 
Has gained sweet Jeanie's favour : 

If so, may every bliss be hers, 
Thoueli I maun never have her : 




Ae look deprived me o' my heart. 
And I became a lover. 



But gang- she east, or gang she 
west, 
'Twixt Forth and Tweed all 
over, 
While men have eyes, or ears, or 
taste. 
She'll always find a lover. 
She's aye, aye sae blithe, etc. 



73 



JOHN BARLEYCORN. 

A BALLAD. 

There were three Kings into the 
east, 
Three Kings botli great and 
high, 
And they hae sworn a solemn oath 
John Barleycorn should die. 

They took a plough and plough'd 
him down, 

Put clods upon his head. 
And they hae sworn a solemn oath 

John Barleycorn was dead. 



JOHN BARLEYCORN. 

But the cheerfu' Spring came, 
kindly on, 

And show'rs jjegan to fall ; 
John Barleycorn got up again, 

And sore surpris'd tiieni all. 

The sultry suns of Summer came. 
And he grew thick and strong, 

His iiead vveel arm'd wi' pointed 
spears, 
That no one should him wrong. 

The sober Autumn enler'd mild, 
When he grew wan and pale ; 

His bending joints and drooping 
head 
Show'd he began to fail. 

His colour sicken 'd more and more, 

He faded into age ; 
And then his enemies began 

To show tiieir deadly rage. 



JOHN BARLEYCORN 



They've ta'en a weapon, long and 
sharp, 
And cut him by the knee; 



Then tied him fast upon a cart, 
Lii<e a rogue for forgerie. 

76 




But a miller us'd him worst of all, 

For he crush'd him between two stones. 



JOHN BARLEYCORN. 

They laid him down upon his 
i)ack, 
And cudgel'd him full sore; 
They hung him up before th.e 
storm, 
And turn'd him o'er and o'er. 

They filled up a darksome pit 

With water to the brim, 
They heaved in John Barleycorn, 

There let him sink or swim. 

They laid him out upon the floor, 
To work him farther woe, 

And still, as signs of life appear'd, 
They toss'd him to and fro. 

They wasted, o'er a scorching 
flame. 
The marrow of his bones ; 



JOHN BARLEYCORN, 



But a miller us'd him worst of all, 
For he crush'd him between two 
stones. 

And they hae ta'en his very heart's 
blood, 
And drank it round and round ; 
And still the more and more they 
drank. 
Their joy did more abound. 

John Barleycorn was a hero bold. 

Of noble enterprise. 
For if you do but taste his blood, 

'Twill make your courage rise; 

'Twill make a man forget his woe ; 

'Twill heighten all his joy; 
'Twill make the widow's heart to 
sing, 

Tho' the tear were in her eye. 

80 



I 




.;y>d* 






'Twill make a man forget his woe. 



OHN BARLEYCORX. 



Then let us toast John Barleycorn, 
Each man a glass in hand ; 

And may his great posterity 
Ne'er fail in old Scotland ! 



83 



THERE'LL NEVER BE 

PEACE TILL JAMIE 

COMES HAME. 

A SONG. 

By yon castle \va', at the close of 

the day, 
I heard a man sing, tho' his head 

it was grey : 
And as he was singing, the tears 

fast down came — 
There'll never be peace till Jamie 

comes hame. 

The church is in ruins, the state is 
in jars, 

Delusions, oppressions, and mur- 
derous wars ; 



84 



THERE'LL NEVER BE, ETC. 

We dare na weel say't, but we ken 

wha's to blame — 
There'll never be peace till Jamie 

comes hame. 



My seven braw sons for Jamie 

drew sword, 
And now I greet round their green 

beds in the yerd ; 
It brak the sweet heart o' my 

faithfu' auld dame — 
There'll never be peace till Jamie 

comes hame. 



Now life is a burden that bows me 

down, 
Sin' I tint my baii'ns, and he tint 

his crown ; 

85 



THERE LL NEVER BE, ETC. 

But till my last moment my words 

are the same — 
There'll never be peace till Jamie 

comes hame. 



86 



THERE WAS A LAD. 

TUNE— "DAINTY DAVIE." 

There was a lad was born at Kyle, 
But what'n a day o' what'n a style 
I doubt it's hardly worth the while 
To be sae nice wi' Robin, 

Robin was a rovin' boy, 

Rantin' rovin', rantin' rovin' ; 

Robin was a rovin' boy, 
Rantin' rov^n' Robin. 

Our monarch's hindmost year but 

ane 
Was tive-and-twenty days begun, 
'Twas then a blast o' Janwar win' 
Blew hansel in on Robin. 

87 



THERE WAS A LAD. 



The gossip keekit in liis loof, 

Quo scho wha lives will see the 

proof, 
This waly boy will be nae coof, 
I think we'll ca' him Robin. 

He'll hae misfortunes great and 

sma', 
But aye a heart aboon them a' ; 
He'll be a credit to us a'. 
We'll a' be proud o' Robin. 

But sure as three times three mak 

nine, 
I see by ilka score and line, 
This chap will dearly like our kin', 
So leeze me on thee, Robin. 

Guid faith, quo scho, I doubt you, 

Sir, 
Ye ear the lasses . . . 



THERE WAS A LAD, 



But twenty fauts ye may hae waur, 
So blessings on thee, Robin ! 

Robin was a rovin' boy, 

Rantin' rovin', rantin' rovin' ; 

Robin was a rovin' boy, 
Rantin' rovin' Robin. 



89 



MARY MORISON. 

TUNE— "BIDE YE YET." 

O Mary, at thy window be, 

It is the wish'd, the trysted hour ! 
Those smiles and glances let niesee, 

That make the miser's treasure 
poor ; 
How blithely wad I bide the stoure, 

A weary slave frae sun to sun ; 
Could I the rich reward secure, 

The lovely Mary Morison. 

Yestreen, when to the trembling 
string 
The dance gaed thro' the lighted 
ha', 



ARY MORISON. 



To thee my fancy took its wing, 

I sat, but neither heard or saw : 
The' this was fair, and that was 
braw, 
And yon the toast of a' the 
town, 
I sigh'd, and said aniang them a', 
" Ye are na Mary Morison." 

O Mary, canst thou wreck Ihs 
peace, 
Wha for thy sake wad gladly 
die? 
Or canst thou break that heart of 
his, 
Whase only faut is loving thee ? 
If love for love thou wilt na gie, 
At least be pity to me shown ! 
A thought ungentle canna be 
The thought o' Mary Morison. 



BONIE PEG. 

As I came in by our gate end. 
As day was waxin' weary, 

O wha came tripping- down the 
street, 
But bonie Peg, my dearie ! 

Her air sae sweet, and sluipe com- 
plete, 

Wi' nae proportion wanting. 
The Queen of Love did never move 

Wi' iriOtion mair enchanting, 

Wi' h'nked hands, we took the sands 
A-down yon winding river; 

And, oh ! that hour and broomy 
bower, 
Can I forget it ever ? 




U wha came tripping down the street, 
But bonie Peg, my dearie/ 



POLLY STEWART. 

TUNE— "YE'RE WELCOME, CHARLEY 
STEWART." 

CHORUS. 

O lovely Polly Stewart, 

O charming Polly Stewart, 

There's ne'er a flower that 
blooms in May, 
That's half so fair as thou art. 

The flower it blaws, it fades, it 
fa's, 

And art can ne'er renew it ; 
But worth and truth eternal youth 

Will gie to Polly Stewart. 



95 



POLLY STEWART, 



May he, whase arms shall fauld 
thy charms, 
Possess a leal and true heart ; 
To him be given to ken the heaven 
He grasps in Polly Stewart. 
O lovely, etc. 



96 



HEY. THE DUSTY MILLER. 

TUNE— "THE DUSTY MILLER." 

Hey, the (lusty miller, 
And his dusty coat ; 
He will win a shilling, 
Or he spend a groat. 
Dusty was the coat. 

Dusty was the colour, 
Dusty was the kiss. 

That I got frae the niillei 

Hey, the dusty miller. 

And his dusty sack ; 
Leeze me on the calling 

Fills the dusty peck. 



HEY, THE DUSTY MILLER, 



Fills the (lusty peck, 
Brings the dusty siller; 

I wad gie my coatie 
For the dusty miller. 







Dusty was the kiss 

That I got frae the miller. 



JAMIE, COME TRY ME. 

TUNE— "JAMIE, COME TRY ME." 
CHORUS. 

Jamie, come try me, 
Jamie, come try me ; 
If thou would win my love, 
Jamie, come try me. 

If thou should ask my love. 

Could I deny thee ? 
If thou would win my love, 

Jamie, come try me. 

If thou should kiss me, love, 
Wha could espy thee ? 

If thou wad be my love, 
Jamie, come try me. 



JAMIE, COME TRY ME. 

Jamie, come try me, 
Jamie, come try me ; 
If thou would win my love, 
Jamie, come try me. 



THERE WAS A LASS. 

TUNE— "DUNCAN DAVISON." 

There was a lass, they ca'd her 
Meg-. 
And she lield o'er the moors to 
sj)in ; 
Tliere was a hid tliat follow'd her, 
They ca'd him Duncan Davison. 
The inoor was driegh, and Meg 
was skiegh, 
Her favour Duncan coukl na 
win ; 
For wi' the rock she wad him 
knock, 
And ay she shook the temper- 
pin. 



THERE WAS A LASS. 

As o'er the moor they h'ghtly foor, 
A burn was clear, a glen was 
green, 
Upon the banks they eased their 
shanks, 
And ay she set the wdieel between: 
But Duncan swore a haly aith, 
That Meg should be a bride the 
morn ; 
Then Meg took up her spinnin' 
graith, 
And flung them a' out o'er the 
burn. 



We'll big a house — a wee, wee 
house, 
And we will live like King and 
Queen, 
Sae blythe and merry we will be 
When ve set bv the wheel at e'en. 



THERE WAS A LASS. 

A man may drink and no be 
drunk ; 
A man may fight and no be 
slain ; 
A man may kiss a bonie lass, 
And ay be welcome back again. 



135 



THE LADDIES BY THE 
BANKS O' NITH. 

TUNE— "UP AND WAUR THEM A'." 

The laddies by the banks o' Nith, 
Wad trust his Grace wi' a', 
Jamie, 
But he'll sair them as he sair'd the 
king- 
Turn tail and rin awa', Jamie, 

Up and waur them a', Jamie, 

Up and waur them a' ; 
The Johnstons hae the guidin' 

o't. 
Ye turncoat Whigs, awa'. 

1 06 



THE LADDIES BY THE BANKS O' NITH. 

The day he stude his country's 
friend, 
Or gied her faes a claw, Jamie, 
Or frae puir man a blessin' wan, 
That day the duke ne'er saw, 
Jamie. 

But wha is he, hiscountiy's boast ? 

Like him there is na twa, Jamie ; 
There's no a callant tents the kye, 

But kens o' Westerha', Jamie. 

To end the wark, here's Whistle- 
birck, 
Lang may his whistle blaw, 
Jamie ; 
And Maxwell true o' sterling blue, 
And we'll be Johnstons a', 
Jamie. 



I SEE A FORM. I SEE A 
FACE. 

TUNE— "THIS IS NO MY AIN HOUSE." 

O THIS is no my ain lassie, 
Fail- tho' the lassie be ; 

O weel ken I my ain lassie, 
Kind love is in her ee. 

I see a form, I see a face, 
Ye weel may wi' the fairest place : 
It wants, to me, the witching grace. 
The kind love that's in her ee. 
O this is no, etc. 

She's bonie, blooming, straight, and 

tall. 
And lang has had my heart in thrall; 

io8 



: SEE A FORM, I SEE A FACE. 

And aye it charms my very saul, 
The kind love that's in her ee. 
O this is no, etc. 

A thief sae pawkie is my Jean, 
To steal a blink, by a' unseen ; 
But gleg as light are lovers' een, 
When kind love is in the ee. 
O this is no, etc. 

It may escape the courtly sparks, 
It may esc^ipe the learned clerks ; 
But weel the watching lover marks 
The kind love that's in her ee. 
O this is no, etc. 



FULL WELL THOU 
KNOW'ST. 

TUNE— "ROTHIEMURCHUS'S RANT." 
CHORUS. 

Fairest maid on Devon Banks, 
Crystal Devon, winding Devon, 

Wilt thou lay that frown aside, 
And smile as thou were wont 
to do ? 

Full well thou know'st I love 

thee dear, 
Couldst thou to malice lend an 

ear ? 



FULL WELL THOU KNOW'ST. 

O, did not love exclaim, " Forbear, 
Nor use a faithful lover so ? " 
Fairest maid, etc. 

Then come, thou fairest of the 

fair, 
Those wonted smiles, O, let me 

share ; 
And by thy beauteous self I swear, 
No love but thine my heart shall 
know. 

Fairest maid, etc. 



FOR THE SAKE OF SOME- 
BODY. 

TUNE— "THE HIGHLAND WATCH'S 
FAREWELL." 

My heart is sair, I dare na tell, 

My heart is sair for somebody ; 
1 could wake a winter night, 
For the sake o' somebody ! 
Oh-hon ! for somebody ! 
Oh-hey ! for somebody ! 
I could lange the world around, 
For the sake o' somebody. 

Ye powers that smile on \irtuous 
lo\'e, 
O, sweetly smile on somebod)' ! 



FOR THE SAKE OF SOMEBODY, 

Frae ilka danger keep him free, 
And send ine safe my somebody. 
Oh-hon I for somebody ! 
Oh-hey .' for somebody ! 
I wad do — what wad I not? 
For the sake o' somebody ! 






4( 



O WERE MY LOVE V> 

YON LILAC FAIR... 

TUNE — "HUGHIE GRAHAM. "^^. ^ 

O WERE injHove yon lilnc fair, • jR* 
Wi' purple l)Iossoms to the ^ 

spring; 

And I. a bird to shelter there, 
When wearied on my little wing; 

How I wad mourn, when it was 
toin 
By autumn wild, and winter rude! 
But I wad sing on wanton wing, 
When youthfu' May its bloom re- 
new 'd. 



O WERE MY LOVE YON LILAC FAIR. 

O gin my love were yon red rose 
That grows upon the castle wa', 

And I mysel' a drap o' dew, 
Into her bonie breast to fa' ! 

Oh, there beyond expression blest, 
I'd feast on beauty a' the night ; 

Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to 
rest, 
Till fley'd awa' by Phoebus' light. 



^^5 



ON CESSNOCK BANKS. 

TUNE — "IF HE BE A BUTCHER NEAT 
AND TRIM " 

On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells ; 
Could I desci-ibe her shape and 
mien ; 
Our lasses a' she far excels, 

An' she has twa sparkling rogue- 
ish een. 

She's sweeter than the morning- 
dawn 
When rising Phoebus first is seen. 
And dew-drops twinkle o'er tlie 
lawn ; 
An' she has twa sparkling rogue- 
ish een. 



ii6 



ox CESS NOCK BANKS. 

She's stately like yon youthful ash 
That grows the cowslii) braes 
between, 
And drinks the stream with vigour 
fresh, 
An' she has twa sparkling rogue- 
ish een. 

She's spotless like the fiow'ring 
thorn 
With flow'rs so white and leaves 
so gieen, 
When purest in the dewy morn ; 
An' she has twa sparkling rogue- 
ish een. 

Her looks are like the vernal May, 
When ev'ning Phoebus shines 
serene, 



ON CESSNOCK BANKS. 

While birds rejoice on every spray ; 
An' she has twa sparkling rogue- 
ish een. 

Her hair is like the curling mist 
Tiiat climbs the mountain-sides 
at e'en, 
When flow'r-reviving rains are past ; 
An' she has twa sparkling rogue- 
ish een. 

Her forehead's like the show'ry bow, 
When gleaming sunbeams inter- 
vene 
And gild the distant mountain's 
brow ; 
An' she has twa sparkling rogue- 
ish een. 

Her cheeks are like yon crimson 
gem. 




An' she has twa sparkling rogueish een. 



ON C less NOCK I'.ANKS. 



'IIh; pride ol ;ill tlic llowciy 
scene, 
Jiisl ()|)eiiii)^ on iis ilioiny stem; 



isli ecu. 

I l<'i leelli ;ire like llie ni^lilly snow 
When p.ile llie nioininj^ rises 
ke<'n, 
Wliil(r hid \\\r. niiinniii in^ slie.im- 
icls How ; 
An' shr. has Iwn, sjjarkhn^ Kj-^ue- 
ish ecu. 

II(T h|)s aie like yon ( lieiries ii|)e, 
Thai sunny walls from lioicas 
S(iceii, 
They lempl the taslc and cliarm 
the si^ht ; 
An' she has twa. si)aikhn}4 lOj^ue- 
ish een. 



ON CESSNOCK BANKS. 

Her teeth are like a flock of sheep. 
With fleeces newly washen 
clean, 
That slowly mount the rising 
steep ; 
An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' 
een. 

Her breath is like the fragrant 
breeze 
That gently stirs the blossom 'd 
bean, 
When Phoebus sinks behind the 
seas ; 
An' she has twa sparkling rogue- 
ish een. 

Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush 
That sings on Cessnock banks 
unseen, 



ON CESSNOCK BANKS. 

While his mate sits nestling in the 
bush ; 
An' she has tvva sparkling rogue- 
ish een. 

But it's not her air, her form, her 
face, 
Tho' matching beauty's fabled 
queen, 
'Tis the mind that shines in ev'ry 
grace. 
An' chiefly in her rogueish een. 



SHE SAYS SHE LOVES ME 
BEST OF A'. 

TUNE—" ONAGH'S water-fall." 

Sae flaxen were her ringlets, 

Her eyebrows of a darker hue, 
Bewitch ingly o'erarching 

Twa laughing een o' bonie blue. 
Her smiling, sae wyling, 

Wad make a wretch forget his 
woe ; 
What pleasure, what treasure, 

Unto these rosy lips to grow ! 
Such was my Chloris' bonie face, 

When first her bonie face I saw. 
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm, 

She says she lo'es me best of a'. 




And hear my vows o' truth and love. 



SHE SAYS SHE LOVES ME BEST OF A'. 

Like harmony her motion ; 
Her pretty ancle is a si)y 
Betraying fair proportion, 

Wad make a saint forget the 
sky ; 
Sae warming, sae charming. 

Her faultless form and gracefu' 
air; 
Ilk feature — auld Nature 

Declar'd that she could do nae 
mair : 
Her's are the willing chains o' love. 
By conquering beauty's sovereign 
law ; 
And aye my Chloris' dearest 
charm, 
She says she loe's me best of a'. 

Let others love the city. 

And gaudy show at sunny noon ; 



SHE SAYS SHE LOVES ME BEST OF A'. 

Gie me the lonely valley, 

The dewy eve, and rising moon 
Fair beaming, and streaming, 
Her silver light the boughs 
amang ; 
While falling, recalling, 

The amorous thrush concludes 
his sang : 
There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou 
rove 
By wimpling burn and leafy 
shaw, 
And hear my vows o' truth and 
love. 
And say thou lo'es me best of a? 



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